I Should Come With a Warning

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I should come with a warning

because, with all humility,
you will fall in love with me,
but for all the right reasons.
 
I was born to nurture the world,
adults, children, and animals alike.
On your worst days, on days you are so sick
you want to retreat from the world entirely,
I will sit quietly by and just be there,
getting you tea or a cool cloth,
depending.
 
When you talk, I will listen,
really listen,
as you share your day, your woes,
your fears, and your aspirations.
I will ask thoughtful, pertinent questions,
and thus, you will continue talking.
In this, I will hear that one thing
that really matters to you
and remember it,
eventually using the information for good;
a token of affection,
a work of art made specifically with you in mind,
a card with a bit of poetry that makes you smile,
because I know you.
 
My presence in your life
will cause you to look deeper into yourself
than ever before.
I will make you feel so safe
your calloused skin will slough off
and fragile, new skin will appear.
You will be vulnerable.
This is usually where things backfire,
so I should come with a warning.

Your vulnerability will turn to fear,

fear will turn to anger,
anger will turn to accusations,
accusations will turn me away,
and our beautiful world will implode.
Unless,
you decide to be different
from those who have gone before.

As kind and tender as I am,

I run deep, to the bone.
I am not for the faint of heart so
I should come with a warning
because, with all humility,
you will fall in love with me,
but for all the right reasons.

~ Mk Michaels, 2015


This article has appeared on elephant journal http://www.elephantjournal.com/2015/04/i-should-come-with-a-warning/

Gracious Hypocrisy

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Together in a social setting,

my son by my side,

I stood with my accuser

and her castoff .

I swallowed hard and smiled.

 

No one likes awkward public situations.

No appreciates a public spectacle,

calling a spade a spade,

especially when the name-caller

is the accused,

assumed guilty until proven innocent.

So I swallowed hard and smiled.

 

I am compassionate at heart and

give others the benefit of the doubt,

but when old feelings are as plain

as words written on a page,

and the pot has been stirred

without provocation,

I cannot.

Still I swallowed hard and smiled

and held my fist tightly clenched by my side

so as not to cause a scene.

 

The jumble of emotions

crowding my heart

were almost too much.

Almost.

Embarrassment.

Anger.

Vulnerability.

Humiliation.

Abandonment.

 

Yet I swallowed hard, smiled, and

shoved my feelings into my festering gut

so I could turn and head toward the crosswalk

before the tears fell.

 

I am strong;

my shoulders can bear the weight of the world,

the weight of my children’s heavy hearts,

and mine,

but I cannot bear

false accusations,

indiligent due diligence,

fear disguised as indictment,

insecurity trumping my unwavering faithfulness,

others’ sins being seen as my own. 

Still, I have swallowed hard and smiled,

talking about the weather, my garden, kids, work;

topics intended to afford us the patina of safety

until it was safe again. 

Regrettably, oh so incredibly regrettably,

there seems to be dreadfully little safety here anymore.

The refuge, who once guarded the cave door,

so I could sleep is gone.

So I don’t sleep much anymore,

but I swallow hard and smile a lot.

 

 

~ Mk Michaels, 2015

Moon Child

Night, my enemy

Sleep visits me no more

Count; hours till dawn. 

~ Mk Michaels